All You Are
by doe-eyed-girly-evil
Summary: "You told me you loved me. You didn't have the decency to tell me I loved you." (Post-Season 6)


**Note: **So, I wrote this little, rambly thing on New Year's eve. I thought Dair could use a New Year kiss scenario and this is the result. Also, it is probably the only time you'll see me acknowledge the existence of the abomination that was Season 6 since this is set a few years after the "flash forward". Though, you won't see any acknowledgement of Dan being Gossip Girl because lol no.

Oh and thanks so much to everyone who left lovely reviews on my last story. Y'all are awesome.

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He half-stumbles out of the noisy, crowded, extravagantly adorned ballroom onto the large balcony, champagne bottle in hand. It's mere minutes from midnight and he already hates the new year before it officially begins. If he had had his way he'd have sat this party out, but Serena insisted and what Serena insists on she usually gets. The thought of another year gone by and new one about to begin is crushingly depressing to him, though he's not entirely sure why. He breathes in the cold night air relieved to be alone which he soon discovers he's not. She sits on the stone bench in a secluded, shadowy corner of the balcony, her own champagne clutched in one hand, dark curls a little less precise than usual.

"Blair?"

"Oh, _heeey_ there, Humpty Dumpty," she drawls gleefully. "C'mere."

"You're drunk," he declares, plopping himself down next to her gracelessly.

"So are you," she retorts. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, you know, love and such."

She crinkles her nose in disgust. "Eugh. Who needs it."

"Amen, sister." They clink their bottles together and take large gulps.

"I'm no expert," she says, wisely. "But I've heard that it only takes a moment to be loved."

He almost chokes on the champagne. "I know you're on the wrong side of inebriated right now, but did you just quote Hello Dolly?"

"Yee-up," she replies, popping the 'p' emphatically. "If you mention it again, I'll deny it."

"So."

"So?"

"So, we used to be friends, huh?" he asks, nudging her shoulder with his.

"Oh, who even remembers anymore."

"I do."

"We were," she admits after a pause. "Best friends."

"And?"

"And, what?"

"And you were in love with me."

If she's caught off-guard by this, she shows no sign of it.

"I... was," she concedes, quietly, frowning at his alcohol-induced boldness.

"Ha!" he says with a sense of petty triumph. "Told you so."

"Could've told me so eight years ago, Humphrey."

"I thought I did."

"Nope, nuh uh, _nooo_," she replies, poking him in the chest dramatically. "You told me _you_ loved _me_. You didn't have the decency to tell me _I_ loved _you_."

He scoffs. "Yes, because you're nothing if not receptive to things I tell you. You dumped me, remember?"

"Oh, I remember all right," she mutters, petulantly. "I remember you didn't waste any time taking up residence inside hotel Van Der Woodsen."

"Well, as long as we're on the subject of hotels –"

"Still too soon," she snaps.

He chuckles bitterly. "Should've put that in your wedding vows."

She shakes her head with a rueful smile and takes another swig of champagne. They fall into companionable silence for several moments and he chances a glance at her. Even in the relatively dim light he can tell her cheeks are flushed. There's a serenity about her lazy smile as she looks up at the night sky.

"I kept them, you know," she finally says. "The vows, I mean."

He snorts, incredulous. "You had your vows written down? On what? A postage stamp?"

"Not _those_ vows, you imbecile."

She glares at him, impatience etched into her every feature as she implores him to understand. His eyebrows lift reflexively when he catches her meaning.

"Oh... right. Does, um... does Chuck know you have that lying around?"

"I'm not sure Chuck knows he has _me_ lying around."

"Blair –"

"Did you mean it?" she urges. "What you wrote, did you... or did you just, you know, objectively assess me from some sort of warped scientific angle and write down what you thought I wanted to hear from Louis?"

"Blair, can we not –"

"Oh, come on, Da-_aan_," she whines and he almost expects her to stamp her feet. "Humor me. I'm _bored_. And it's not like I'll even remember any of this in the morning."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he whispers.

"Dan –"

"Shh." He grabs both her hands in his to still her and she peers at him expectantly. He makes sure to enunciate each word. Just for one night, just for one moment, he needs her to _know_. He needs her to _understand_. "Those vows were the most honest thing I've ever written."

There's a pause as she looks at him and her eyes soften, but soon enough they narrow and fill with suspicion. "Are you sure that's not just the alcohol talking?"

He drops her hands, frustrated. "You might be the most singularly infuriating woman I've ever met."

"It's why you still love me."

"Who says I still love you?"

"You never stopped," she huffs with a breathtakingly self-assured haughtiness. "And why _wouldn't_ you love me? I'm fabulous. _Everybody_ says so. Besides, I love you, too and - and stuff."

He smirks. "You love me, too and _stuff_?"

"Well, what's so wrong with that?" she demands, pouting. "We're in-laws... sort of and - and you're, you know... married to my son's godmother which makes you... I'm not sure what that makes you, but point is... you're like a brother and -"

"Okay, I'd rather have root canal than listen to you call me your brother."

"Because you _like_ me like me?" she asks, patting his shoulder sympathetically and he can't help but smile at the childlike - albeit drunken - sincerity in her eyes.

"That and I'm married."

"Ooh, me too!" she declares excitedly as though this is news. "_And_ I have a kid. He wears bow ties. Is that weird? I mean, what kid wears bow ties?"

"What adult wears headbands?"

She gasps at this pronouncement and he almost feels guilty for the cheap shot, but before he can apologize she giggles carelessly. "God, Humphrey, you're such a bitch."

"Life's a bitch."

"Well, _that's_ original."

"Serena's pregnant. How's _that_ for original?"

He knows this actually _is_ news to her as she freezes and clutches his arm in abject horror as though he just announced a terminal illness. She makes no attempt to alter her expression.

"Yeah," he continues. "She told me this morning."

"Oh."

She releases his arm abruptly and he surveys her curiously. "Hey, Blair?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not congratulating me."

"It didn't seem like you wanted me to."

"I don't."

She nods, smiling awkwardly. "So, if _you're_ married and _I'm_ married and _I_ have a kid and _you_ have a kid... what does that make us?"

"Soulmates?" he offers.

There's a beat as they stare at each other, unblinking, unmoving, before they simultaneously collapse into a bout of hysterics. He can't remember the last time he laughed like this. He can't remember the last time she laughed at all. He hunches forward clutching his stomach as she leans into his side burying her giggles into his shoulder. When the delirium eventually wears off, he notices her shiver slightly. Her dress leaves her shoulders bare and she's not wearing her coat. He's about to offer her his jacket when she catches his eye and he stops mid-action. They're back where they started; staring, unblinking, unmoving...

"I love you." He can't stop himself. He runs his fingers lightly along her forearm, feeling goosebumps erupt and smiles knowing they have nothing to do with the cold air.

"Th–that's terrible," she breathes.

"_You_ love _me_." He doesn't _want_ to stop himself, his hand continuing its trail up her arm and across her shoulder. Her eyes flutter closed and she tilts her head slightly allowing his hand access to brush along the curve of her neck.

"You... uhm... y-you should've told me that -"

"Eight years ago, I know." He traces his fingers along her jaw and drags his thumb roughly over her lower lip feeling some of the glossy lipstick smudge, leaving a messy trail of ruby-red beside the corner of her mouth.

"This," she whispers, bringing a hand up to still his, gesturing between them. "Is not okay."

"Not at all." He leans forward, their noses touch, she inhales sharply. The echoes of the countdown to midnight begin to emanate from inside, but he makes no effort to move.

"It was never okay." She takes his free hand in hers and lifts it to her lips, mimicking his action from seconds ago, she guides his thumb forcefully, slowly, deliberately across her mouth, creating another smear of ruby against her skin.

"Never."

_five... four... three... two..._

Predictably, inevitably, artlessly they kiss. They kiss as only the insatiable know how. They kiss as only the incomplete can. They kiss and they kiss and they kiss and they kiss, for entirely too long to satisfy propriety, and not nearly long enough to satisfy veracity. It isn't right. It isn't okay. It feels like the only thing that is.

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**A/N:** If you're wondering whether this is Dair in the midst of an ongoing affair or if this is a first time thing, well, I'm not entirely sure which scenario I liked better, so I left that up to interpretation. I maybe lean towards the idea that they've been having an emotional affair for a while, but this is the first time it got physical? I don't know. Read that however you like.

Reviews as always are much appreciated because I'm needy like that. :)


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